“I want to apologise, Commander Kennedy, that I haven’t been able to properly speak with you since our departure from Deep Space Nine until now,” Captain Lorena Escribano said as she sat herself down opposite her guest and setting down a large bowl of salad in the middle of the dining table. “And unfortunately, my schedule for the next few days isn’t going to be much better, so I hope you don’t mind meeting over dinner.”

“Your boat, ma’am, your schedule,” Nathan Kennedy replied with a chuckle. He was merely a passenger aboard Sundiver, hopping a ride to DS47. Any meeting with the captain was purely curtesy and one he was happy to take at her time. Family dinner wasn’t what he’d envisioned, but he couldn’t say no to an actual sit-down, home cooked meal.

“Oh no, please, don’t say that,” the man next to Captain Escribano said with a smile. Lieutenant Commander Emilio Escribano, the captain’s husband and just one of many, many scientists aboard the floating laboratory that was the Sundiver, was also one of the most relaxed and laid back people Nathan had ever had the chance to meet. And from the smells wafting up from the dishes on the table, not a bad cook either. “She gets enough reassurances from her own crew; she doesn’t need it from visitors.”

“Love you, mama,” the young kid seated at the far end of the table said. They were seated so that Emilio could help with anything as required with dinner, but also so that father and child could talk while the captain and guest could speak without having to talk over each other.

“And enough reassurances at home, too,” Emilio added as he grabbed the salad bowl and started dishing out, ignoring the protests of the youngest Escribano and piling on a gentle reminder about trying least there be no dessert.

“Can’t have too many reassurances,” Nathan said, looking over the offerings on the table before him and opting to start with another solid staple of fresh potatoes. “Especially heading into the Badlands while playing escort to a freighter convoy, either.” He cast a quick glance out the window of the Escribano’s quarters, to the star streak of warp travel and dull angry ruddy orange-brown of the self-perpetuating plasma storm that anchored so many navigational charts for this region of the galaxy.

“We’re all going in the same direction,” Lorena said with a wave of a hand as she took the salad bowl from her husband. “Makes sense for the freighters to convoy and for us to provide an escort through the Badlands. Just wish that the captain of the Pacific Rider had seen it that way a little sooner.”

“Makes sense? Are matters with the New Maquis bad enough in the Badlands?” Nathan asked.

“Even without the New Maquis, it makes sense to go into the Badlands with a friend.” Lorena waved a hand at the roiling plasma outside her windows. “The designated shipping lanes aren’t what I would call safe to start with, but ships have to get through, so we find them the safest route through a miserable locale. And if a ship is overdue, the routes hopefully give us a starting point for any searches. But a convoy at least means if something goes wrong with one ship, hopefully the other can at least save lives and get out of danger.”

Nathan found himself nodding in agreement with Lorena Escribano as she spoke. It all made sense, after all. There was safety in numbers. And more so when Starfleet wasn’t hours away at warp, but right there with you should something go wrong. “Can’t fault you, ma’am. And hopefully a Lamarr-class ship riding shotgun on these freighters will mean we see the weather and any malcontents well before it becomes a problem.”

“Oh, they’ll see us well before we see them,” Lorena answered with a sly grin. “We’re going in with all sensors active, beating away at the Badlands. If we’re stuck doing warp five, we might as well do some cartography work and update the navigational charts for the Badlands. But it means while we might get a good fix on a raider at say, three or four light-years in this mess, they’ll see us as a lighthouse much further out.”

“And hopefully get the message of ‘stay away’,” Nathan added.

“That’s the one.”

As dinners went, it was one of the finest Nathan could recall he’d had in a few years. Good company, including the smallest Escribano after they had overcome the ordeal of eating salad and shyness at the bearded individual at the table, combined with a truly excellent meal put dinner with the Escribano’s right up there. Though mentally he knew it was the actual real food that had been cooked to perfection by a man who continued to defend himself as ‘just a devoted amateur’.

And as child and father moved away from the table, leaving just the two command officers at the table, Lorena Escribano had produced a bottle of red wine, verging on purple, and poured a glass for both of them without even needing to ask. “Salud,” she said with raised glass, and to which he responded.

“Oh, that’s good,” he muttered after the first sip. “That’s really, really good. Honestly, ma’am, if you have this on your ship, can I transfer to your command?”

Lorena laughed as she shook her head. “You’d have to fight with Tae for that honour, and no, I’m not letting her go.” She spent a moment examining the bottle, then set it down with a twist so Nathan could easily read the label. “Though you’d have to speak with Julien about the wine. It was a present a few months back.”

“Commander Rigal, yes? Your tactical officer?” When she nodded in the affirmative, he nodded as well. “I’ll hit him up later. This is fantastic.”

“He’ll be pleased to hear that. Now tell me, Commander Kennedy-”

“Nathan, please.”

“Nathan,” Lorena continued, “Were you picked, or assigned to Atlantis?”

“Picked,” he answered. “Let Command know I was available if required. Informed a few months ago that a few captains were looking at me for XO slots, which are opening all over the Fleet after the last year we’ve had. Got my shipping orders a month ago and am now on the last leg out to relieve a Romulan exchange officer, as I understand it.”

“Ah, Commander Kendris. Sub-Commander Kendris.” Lorena snorted briefly. “You’re stepping into some interesting shoes, I should warn you.”

“Oh?”

“Captain MacIntyre, Republic’s CO, was the Fleet Captain’s XO until his promotion. Then the Fleet Captain gets a Romulan Exchange officer foisted on her, but from I hear isn’t just making it work, but work well. And now you’re stepping into the role.”

“Interesting shoes,” he repeated her words from earlier. “I see what you mean. I’ve read some of Fleet Captain Theodoras’ record, what I could at any rate. I’m honestly looking forward to working with her, but what’s she like?” He jostled his head briefly. “I mean, personality wise. Her record gives some detail, but there’s what’s on paper and what you experience in person.”

Lorena sat back in her chair, looking past Nathan at her husband and child playing in the living space of their quarters while gently swirling her wine. “I’ve had limited face-to-face time with the Fleet Captain, I have to admit. Mostly communicate with her via messages back and forth. She lets Sundiver get on with its core work for the most part. I wouldn’t say she’s hands off, just prefers to save interference in our duties for when it’s required.”

“Like when she ordered Sundiver to assist in breaking up a New Maquis operation not too long ago?” Nathan asked.

Lorena nodded in answer. “I bet the New Maquis were shocked when Atlantis burst through the storms around their little hideaway. Floored when Perseus followed along and just confused when Sundiver followed up the rear.”

“I read a debriefing of one of the New Maquis prisoners where he commented about ‘that funny looking Sovereign starship’.”

“The Lamarr-class starships are a rare breed,” Lorena admitted. “It’s not hard to see the design lineage, though.” She had another sip of her wine, basking in the nose for a few seconds before. “But otherwise, I’d have to say, my opinion of the Fleet Captain is…relaxed competency with episodes of boldness.”

Nathan’s puzzled expression drew a smirk from the woman opposite him before she continued. “I found her patient and thoughtful, considering all options before her. But then when it came time to rescue her team on that New Maquis base, she was all directness. I’d also suggest looking into the Battle of Leonis and the Battle of Deneb as well, where on both occasions her battle plans could best be described as ‘ram a fleet down the enemy’s throat and see what happens’. In my limited combat experience, that is.”

“So considerate, but once she has a plan, get out of her way?” Nathan asked.

Lorena raised her glass with a smirk as her answer.

“Sound like it’ll be an interesting time then,” he continued. “And I’ll have to look into the Battle of Leonis. I read the after-action reports from Deneb and noted that she charged into the system blaring music over most subspace channels.”

Lorena shook her head. “You should book a holodeck tomorrow and load up the tactical map recreation. I wasn’t there, but it’s an impressive entrance Atlantis makes to the battlefield. Late, mind you, but impactful. Honestly glad I wasn’t there, but there are a few captains and even admirals that are alive today because Theodoras stuck with her tried-and-true plan.”

“Ram a fleet into a problem and see what happens,” Nathan said, answered by another salute, which he matched. “I might just do that, actually.”

“We have plenty of holodecks across the ship. If you need priority, speak with my staff, we’ll make it happen.” Lorena then slowly got to her feet, looking over Nathan to her husband and child. “Are we ready for dessert?”

That one word immediately got Alex’s attention, the collection of brightly coloured building blocks they and Emilio had been playing with forgotten as they shot to their feet. “Dessert!” the child announced before rushing back to the table. “Gelato!”

“Gelato?” Nathan asked the smallest Escribano. “Alright then Alex, what flavour would you recommend then?”

“Lemon!” the kid announced as they ascended back into their seat. “Always lemon!”

“Well, when it comes to desserts,” Nathan said, smiling to the kid as Emilio ruffled their hair as he passed behind them, “I’ll defer to the youngest. Lemon gelato sound lovely.”